Hawaii: Where We Stayed

I can't post Hawaii pictures without first touching on the cottage that we rented through VRBO that, for all three of us, made our trip. Steve and I are now firmly on the vacation rental side of the coin when it comes to traveling with little ones. Hotels shmotels, I liked that we could open a sliding glass door in the morning and Mila had the world at her feet (I'll get to what her world consisted of in a second). I loved turning down a quiet residential street every evening after being at the beach all afternoon and being able to lose myself in the fantasy that this was actually our home. I loved not hearing or seeing other tourists. I loved that Steve could get up with Mila in the morning and fix her breakfast in our little kitchen/dining area while I slept in (and he did this every morning, God bless that gift of a man).

Initially we had been searching listings for a place with a closed-off bedroom and separate living room area. That was a deal-breaker, I thought. That way after we put Mila down for the night in her travel crib (the Babybjorn travel crib is worth its weight in gold! Highly recommend.) we'd have a place we could unwind, talk, relax, be adults in those evening hours that go by all to quickly. Am I right, parents? In short, not be relegated to whispering in the bathroom all evening long so we, shhhhhhh, don't wake the baby. After days of searching and coming up with nothing that felt right, Steve found a certain listing. A stand-alone cottage next to the main house...minutes from the beach...hammocks...secluded. And what we knew would be the highlight for Mila: animals. A horse and her foal, a resident pup, roosters. We were sold (it had me at the hammocks!)--if only there were a separate bedroom and not just a studio apartment. Steve made contact with the owner anyway and she won us over with just how thoroughly warm and nice she was, evident even through email. A parent and grandparent, she adored kids and even offered to have a wooden screen available to us so there would be a visual partition between the bed and living area. We took a leap of faith and sent in our deposit.

A few days later we got an anxious email from the owner--she had accidentally double-booked the cottage for the first 2 nights of our trip and would we mind staying in the main house with use of their infinity pool, outdoor shower, having two adjoining rooms at a discounted price? Um, twist our arms and no, we wouldn't mind :) 

 Really, best decision of the trip. Our rental made our trip. Take out the beaches, the shave ice, fresh seafood, paddleboarding, and kayaking--it might not be Hawaii anymore, but had we never left the cottage I don't think any of us would've complained. Certainly not Wugs. Tomorrow you'll see why!

A little bit of camping.

We took a little time away for a 1-night quickie camping trip last week. It was Mila's 2nd-ever time camping and what a difference a year makes. Last time, still gaining proficiency walking. This time, what walking?...my running, climbing, stuff-yo-face eating, BABY-IN-MIYA-BEYEE-TOO fun girl. We went to nearby Samuel P. Taylor State Park in Lagunitas. "You got the honeymoon site!" exclaimed the ranger at check-in; we laughed because with one child in the backseat and another on the way we've clearly already done some happy honeymooning. But he was right. We were so proud of our site number 11, seemingly just a fire pit and lockbox when you pulled up to it, but then take one step further and you're in a little redwood clearing that belongs to only you. Add to that a creek, a tin foil dinner, a s'mores meltdown, one filthy Baa, one filthier Elmo, and a tent outfitted with two air mattresses so that Wugs is now convinced she's going to be spending the night in a bounce house.

I call that successful camping. It's heartwarming to see it unfold--I'm a camping girl at heart. It's always been one of my favorite memories, both as a child and in adulthood, and I'm hoping to raise a likeminded girl.

Our fourth.

This one was even better than last year. Am I going to say that every year until my babies grow up? 

It was better than the 4th when I was 22 years old and went swimming in the Washington Monument's reflecting pool right before the fireworks.

Better than the 4th when Steve and I, newlyweds, were driving home from a road trip to Montreal and pulled over the side of the highway somewhere in upstate New York to watch fireworks light up the sky.

Mila's first fireworks. We had been pumping her up all day, showing her fireworks youtube videos and explaining that they would be loud but fun. By the time 9 pm rolled around she was understandably excited for this whole fireworks business (and wide awake, thanks to a well-orchestrated late nap bwahahahahaha). She was enthralled: UP HIGH....HOT....PWETTY....TASTE 'EM....TOUCH 'EM....there may or may not be a video posting of her wide-eyed crazy innocent delight. We'll see how well lit it is. But we've got it and it's proof for Wugs to see someday: her first fireworks. And my most magical one yet.

Other fourths: strawberry cupcakes, my patriotic stripey fashionista, Mila's glow bath (or as she refers to it, SUH-PRISE BATH) which is becoming a 4th tradition, watermelon smoothies, Wugs and Papa dressing up Baa and Elmo all patriotic like, and blueberry popsicles.